


Forever is the sweetest Con

by Rae_Saxon



Series: Things with T - Thoschei & Taylor [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28028217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/pseuds/Rae_Saxon
Summary: Thea is a con artist, making old men believe she loves them long enough to collect their life insurances. O is a con man. Making young women believe he loves them long enough for them to ask their daddies for money for his business. When both meet on a party, they immediately know they've just fallen in love for the first and last time. || Based on Cowboy Like Me by Taylor Swift
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: Things with T - Thoschei & Taylor [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/969660
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	Forever is the sweetest Con

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maeinfin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeinfin/gifts).



> *pops open Champagne* I wanted my 100th story on AO3 to be special and I think there's nothing more special than Evermore right now, so I'm happy with it.

It had been a day like any other.

It was _supposed_ to be a day like any other.

She was there with Jack, some old dude who liked the sound of his own voice too much to even notice how disinterested she had looped her arm through his, walking through the little party with a constant frozen face and a sigh always ready on her lips.

It was boring. She had gone into con business, not because she liked the money, not because she needed the fancy car, but because it was supposed to give her a thrill. The constant games, the constant adrenaline of being on the run all the time, from one wrung out lover to the next, their jewels in her bag.

No one had warned her how long and tiring and _boring_ the middle parts were.

Rich people, she had learned far, far too late to change professions – They had so much money to burn but couldn't find a single exciting thing to do with it.

Instead, they had decorated the tennis court – as if Tennis wasn't bad enough on its own, yet -, hung up a beige tent-like thing, as if that somehow made it better. She admitted, it looked a bit pretty, with all the candles shining underneath it. But romantic setting only reminded her of the role she had to play and at the end of the day – Well, it was still a tennis court, wasn't it? The ugly green would probably hunt her forever.

“Hang on, darling.” Jack gave her a gross kiss on the cheek, making sure everyone standing around them could hear the smack, before he walked off, letting her stand right in the middle of the crowd, to talk to some other, greasy business men.

Always the same. It didn't matter, of course. She just needed to play the devoted housewife until he dropped down dead and cash in his life insurance – Just needed him to believe that she loved him. Never, in a million years, would she expect the same from him. No, these kind of people didn't care about anything but adding more and more riches to their pile of money. And if they walked over a pavement of poor people's spines, they wouldn't even blink.

That's why she tended to donate half of everything she stole from them. Kept just enough to make sure she could always safely disappear.

“So,” she heard someone breathe into her ear, felt the warm-cold breeze of his breath on her sensitive skin and shivered. “What's a beautiful lady like you doing with someone like him?”

She turned around casually, a cold smile on her lips.

“I love him.”

The man before her – drop-dead gorgeous, damn him – raised an eyebrow.

“I'm sure you do.”

Thea smiled a little brighter.

There was no kidding these people, of course. They took one short look at her, pretty and young and blonde, cold as a fish by Jack's side, and they saw what the old man couldn't see anymore. She didn't bother pretending. Snobby rich people were too much up their own asses to ever care about the business of other rich snobby old men. Especially when they hung with one foot in their grave already.

But this man before her was different. He didn't seem to see a leech when he looked at her, didn't, in fact, seem to see anything but her.

His dark eyes were pinned to her, warm and yet calculating. Something slept behind them and she wasn't sure what it was, but it felt unpredictable, it felt _wild_. And with something like horror, Thea realised she wanted to know him.

“I'm O,” he introduced himself, as if he had read her thoughts, holding out his hand to her.

“O?” she replied, her sweetest, most fake laugh spilling from her lips, pearling down on him. “That's not even a name.”

His hand was still out-stretched to her, fingers wriggling invitingly.

“Won't you take my hand?”

“Never,” she breathed back and he looked genuinely offended at that, despite the little smirk spreading out on his face.

“And why's that?”

“Because I have a feeling you'll use it to drag me into a dance,” she smiled, turning to get a glass of champagne at the bar. “And I think that's a dangerous game.”

“Yeah?” he asked, closely behind her and she could feel his grin in the back of her neck, as tangible as she had felt his breath before, even though she couldn't, shouldn't be able to. “For which of us?”

She turned around sharply, looking him up and down with an appreciative rise of her eyebrows. Black suit, purple coat, smoothly ironed, clean shoes, soft, well-brushed dark hair and a well-groomed beard.

“Don't you have a wife to dance with?” she asked brazenly, taking a sip from her champagne.

“A fiancée,” he corrected her, a smirk still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Do you really care?”

Theatrical, Thea brought a hand to her heart, trying on her most shocked expression.

“Who do you take me for? Some sort of Scarlet Woman?”

“One dance.” Again, his hand was reaching out for her, but she looked up into his eyes, now full of warmth, nothing but kind pleading in them, an urgency pulling at her heartstrings just right.

He was good.

He was almost as good as she was.

And that's how she knew.

With a little grin, Thea set down her glass of champagne and took his hand, leading him a bit away from the main crowd, away from the gazes of her husband she'd know would never meet her anyway.

He followed with a smile, his eyes never leaving hers as he let her lead him to the side and let her lead him in dance.  
  
Thea raised her chin with a proud smile.

“I'm afraid you're wasting your time, O.”

“Oh, am I?” he asked, eyes flickering down to her lips, quickly, but not quick enough for her to miss it.

She leaned forwards, closer to him and somehow he closed the distance, made sure she couldn't step out again. A swift, clever move she hadn't seen coming.

Oh he _was_ good.

“There's nothing to get from me,” she whispered in conspirational tone and he threw his head back, laughing.

“You never told me your name, love.”

She was playing with the thought of giving him a fake name like he had. Maybe just call herself T. Call herself Idie like she had for her fourth husband.

Somehow she felt like she could tell him, though. Like, for the first time in endless years of running and running, she could maybe take a tiny little break to _be_.

“Dorothea,” she breathed, not even sure why she went with her whole name. “Thea, I mean.”

He gave her a crooked smile.

“Nice to meet you, Thea.”

“So, you'll stick with O, I take it?” she raised an eyebrow and he shrugged.

“It's closer to the truth than any other name I've given people.”

His hands on his hips squeezed her gently and with a little whirl, he took the lead from her, swaying them over the dancing floor that was just a tennis court, making her forget all about the ugly green as she looked into that beautiful, beautiful brown.

“Well O,” she smiled, weakly. “Enchanted to meet you.”

“I'm sure,” he grinned, whirled her around one last time and then let her go, spinning for a second before she came to a halt, staring after him as he gave her one last wink, before returning to the side of a gorgeous, dark haired woman, greeting her with a hand kiss and his, she was sure, most charming smile.

Never, in dozens of cons, in quite a couple of marriages, in many, many years on the run, Thea had felt this sting of cold, painful _loss_.

She had to have him. Never, in her life, had she needed a man and right now, as she looked at his purple clothed back disappear in the crowd, she knew she would never again.

  
She felt covered in him when she returned home by Jack's side. Like he had somehow followed her in, the thought of his face the only thing she could think of. He'd been so different, because he'd been just like her. Wild, free, reckless, _lonely_.

She hadn't even known she was lonely before she'd met him.

Hadn't even realised what she had needed, before she put her hand into the pocket of her coat and found a little note in it.

A phone number.

A phone number?

Rule number one in the con business was to be untouchable. Giving your number was a risk, was giving away something to track you down, to pin you down, to trace back to you.

He'd made himself vulnerable for her.

She should curl it up, throw it away and forget about him before she made the same mistake.

Instead, that night, when Jack had fallen asleep beside her, satisfied and exhausted, she pulled out the note and her phone, typing him her first, tentative message.

She'd never chatted with anyone before. Never had known anyone long enough to want to keep contact. There had been fleeting friendships, but it was unwise to keep them, unsafe – For them as much as her.

But this, this felt different.

 _Couldn't resist, could you?_ she asked him via text and his reply came swift and sweet and made her traitorous heart beat faster.

_I really couldn't._

  
They kept loose contact in the months and years afterwards. Whenever they were in the same cities, they'd ended up sneaking out in the dark to meet.

He'd danced with her every single time ever since. Whether there was music, whether they met on a parking lot behind the mall, whether they were surrounded by people or alone, he'd take her hand and spin her around in his arms, eyes always looking into hers like they were trying to devour them.

He was an intense man, this one. She could see, easily, why every woman in town always ended up dreaming of him. He'd tell them he needed money, tell them about business ideas he had and they were too in love, too swept off their feet to stop themselves. One talk to their rich daddies and he got everything he wanted of them and was off to the next one.

But he always stopped to meet her in an abandoned parking lot, dancing and taking nothing. Nothing but her heart.

They didn't even sit together in anger. The old men she dried out usually ended up heartbroken, but rich ladies were different. They sat together on fancy tea parties and exchanged stories, half-affectionately, half-competitive, of the times he'd taken them, of the love they imagined shining in his eyes as the bed had shook beneath them.

Thea found herself far, far too often on these parties, listening to their stories with an evil grin trying to break free. Weren't they pathetic? He'd left them, had betrayed all of them with the other and here they sat, fighting over who he'd loved most.

She was the only one who stayed quiet, sipping her tea, eating her biscuits politely, because she knew if she opened her mouth to tell them she was the only one he'd truly love, they'd laugh at her.

And it'd make her nothing but one of them.

Falling in love was dangerous. It was dangerous, even in a business that entirely consisted of making love up. He was a bandit like she was.

She shouldn't trust him.

And oh, maybe she didn't.  
  
  
“We need to stop,” she whispered, pressed against him and the wall, as their dance had turned into kissing and the kissing had turned into grinding.

“Why?” he panted, breathless, turning his head. “Someone here?”

“No,” she gave back, pushing him away slightly and he stumbled backwards, offence visible on his face. “I mean all of it. The whole business.”

“Are you... what? Why?”

“Because I'm tired of it,” she replied. “Meeting you in secret, sharing you with those women. I'm tired of cold hands grabbing my wrists and flaccid dicks and if I tell one more person that I love them who's not you, I might scream out the truth.”

“The truth, huh?” he gave back, still looking stunned. “And what's that?”

“You,” she said calmly. “You might be all that's ever been true about my life.”

“It's fun, though. Leaving them behind in shambles, the shallow, power-hungry, pathetic...”

She kissed him, enjoyed the feeling of his lips stuttering to a hold beneath hers, before he pressed her back against the wall, kissing her hard, hands tugging at her hair and she moaned.

“Fun's not enough anymore,” she breathed against his lips and he pulled back slightly.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

His eyes glazed over in open lust.

“You. Me. Together. Far, far a way from here, with our money, where no one can touch us.”

“This is my life, Thea,” he whispered. “I'm not sure I can just...”

She raised a hand to his cheek, smiling faintly. “I always knew I'd pay for it one day. Falling in love with you. Just like the others did, just... so much worse.”

She kissed him one last time, then wriggled free of his arms, disappearing out into the night, leaving him behind looking like he was struck.

  
It was three weeks from that day, when the police knocked on her current husband's door.

She had already started packing the second she'd seen the blue lights. Calmly, she was putting her few belongings into an expensive little handbag and got ready to go, while her husband opened the door with confusion and worry.

The note with O's number he'd given her, it was still in her night stand. Leaving it behind would mean incriminating him along with herself. The money, of course, everything she knew was in the office safe he'd already given her the combination for. Her favourite book from his library.

When the police came up the stairs, explaining to poor old Graham that he was being robbed by the woman he'd grown to love, she had already jumped out the window, was calmly walking down the street in her best blue dress and off to the next city.

Maybe she'd go with Jean this time around.

She quite liked the sound of it.

  
“Hello, this is Jean,” she answered the phone a night later, when she was lying on her hotel bed, too tired to look for a next victim.

Tired of letting anyone but O touch her.

He snorted and his voice wrapped around her like a comfort blanket.

“No, it's not.”

“Well, no, but I thought it might be my next name, what do you think?”

“I think I need to see you.”

“Can't,” she sighed. “Had to leave town.”

“Police found you too, huh?” he growled.

“You too?” she sat up straight in the bed. Every once in a while, jealous ex wives or worried children sent the police after her, it was nothing she wasn't used to. But for it to happen to both of them on the same day...?

“Yes, I think...” he cleared his throat. “I might have messed up a little.”

“Did someone see you?” she hissed immediately. “When you met me?”

“My lovely fiancée followed me,” he admitted. “Last time we got together. Got suspicious because I made a purchase from our joint account.”

“What purchase?” she asked.

“Listen, I really need to see you. Where are you?”

“Can't tell you that, can I?” She gloomily spread her legs out on the bed, watching the sun set behind trees from her window. “You could be compromised. Saving your skin by ratting out me.”

“You really think I'd do that?” he asked softly.

“I think you're capable of anything,” she smiled. “Just like me.”

“You'd never do it to me.”

“I wouldn't be so sure, O. I'm ruthless.”

“You were right,” he hastily spluttered into the phone. “You were right. I want to stop. I want to be with you. Please, just tell me where you are.”

“Now you're just making me more suspicious,” she replied sadly. Her fingers were trembling when she put down the phone and ended the call.

She should turn it off. Should make sure no one could trace back her call. Should make sure to never be tempted again by the sound of his smooth voice, the look into those warm, beautiful eyes, the light touch of his fingers, the rough, strong grip of his hands...

For a moment, her heart twisted, painfully, at the thought of leaving him behind forever.

She'd fallen for the oldest con in the world – She'd fallen in love with him.

And now she was paying for it.

Well, if she was suffering either way, she was gonna do it right. if he wanted to save his skin for hers, then she'd let him.

She needed to see him one last time.

Her fingers were still now, her heart beating in firm determination, as she sent him the name of her hotel.

  
It was late in the night, when someone knocked on her door. Thea was awake again instantly, still in her blue dress, as she rolled off the bed and walked towards the door.

This could go either way. This could be the police to arrest her, finally catching the most ruthless of bandits they've been chasing or it could be him.

She'd made up her mind a while ago, of course.

And she opened the door.

Before she could say a word, she was pushed to the floor and pressed against the hardboard planks, her hands above her head. She closed her eyes, ready to feel the handcuffs snap, instead light beard stubbles ran over her neck and lips kissed her skin, sucked on it, soothed it, like a drowning man was clinging to her.

“O,” she breathed and he let go of her wrists, let her hands go to his hair, feel the smooth, soft strands as she ran them through her fingers. “O.”

“I was scared to never see you again,” he replied, climbing off her, letting her sit up. “I thought you might have let me straight into a trap. Or an empty room or.... anything. I thought...”

She kissed him, if only to shut him up, to not tell her all the things she should've done to save herself. Saving herself was all she'd ever done and she'd given it up for him.

Everything.

“Listen.”

He shifted to his knees, lips still hovering over hers, eyes boring into hers and she shifted to her knees opposite him, too, smiling.

“You were right,” he said again and this time, her heart was beating out of her chest when she realised he _meant_ it. “I want to be with you. I don't need anything else. Let's run away together. Please?”

She nodded, eagerly, quickly, the smile on her face spreading to a huge, beaming grin.

“Yes.”

“Hah. You better remember that word.”

He put a hand into his jacket and she thought if he pulled out a gun now to shoot her, she'd barely care anymore, her head was swimming in desperate happiness.

Instead, he pulled out a little box of jewellery.

Oh. Oh no, he _hadn't_.

“Marry me, Thea.”

She let out a breath and it felt as if her whole body was relaxing for the first time in her entire life.

She was safe here. She could stay here.

“Yes,” she said and he was beaming, glowing and she threw herself into his arms, her own wrapped around his neck, not even caring for the ring, not even caring for the beauty, the luxury- she's gotten pretty rings all her life.

She just wanted him.


End file.
